Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Sunday, December 13, 2009

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I'd like to drop my name in the box for Pixies.Pixie...a fairylike or elfin creature, especially mischievous. A playful sprite.Toothfairies, flowerfairies & the sandman all have a good life... but perhaps, just a little too good for me.

All this peace & love needs a little spit & fire.

I'd build my wings from sticks & twigs. I hold them together with sap & spit. I'd proudly flaunt about completely topless & I would never, ever wear shoes. I'd grow my hair long & I wouldn't really brush it. I'd be a professional. Much like the toothfairie, I would have a specialty...an area that I catered to.

Living my life as a Pixie, I would traipse in & out of people's homes, cars & places of employment...

I wouldn't visit everyone, of course, as everyone is not well-deserved of a fine, morally upstanding, professional, long-haired, barefooted, topless Pixie-on-a-mission. I would visit all the people who had once visited me & I would leave a trail, just as they had done.

I would bop in on the I-Can't-Read-Nor-Use-A-Measuring-Tape-But-Can-Tell-If-Its-The-Right-Size-By-Looking-At-It persons' house & I would unravel every spool of thread, every bundle of rope & every dispenser of tape... just to see if I too, could measure with my eyes & mind.

I would pilfer through cupboards, stacking plates upon bowls, placing cups in pots & I'd put the lids to said pots on the mantle to the fireplace.I would go into linen closets, remove pillow cases from their matching sheet sets & place them in the garage with the lawn equipment.I would remove the lid from the gas tank on the lawn mower & place it in the socks & underwear drawer.I would take one sock & do some spot cleaning in the bathroom with it.I would remove half the screws from the bathroom fixtures & move the toothbrush holder to the backdoor, placing it right on the ground by Fido's bowl.I would fill Fido's bowl with crystal beads, stolen from a garland which I found & disassembled.I would take the peppermill & seasalt grinder & I would grind salt & pepper onto the coffee table & the maybe I'd dabble my initials in it.I would take all books off of the coffee table & place them on the floor.I would open umbrellas & put them in the center of the room, along with any mail I might find.I'd pull one slice of cheese, one egg, one link of sausage out of their packets & place them on the floor right in front of the refrigerator.I would unscrew pump lotions & squirt a little bit on the counter, then I would smear my fingers through it. A little dab will do.I would take pictures off of the wall & place them on the furniture, hoping not to scratch any wood.If I had a Pixie-child, I would let her chew on candles or cashmere sweaters, they seem to be such wonderful replacements for teething rings when consumers are shopping at christmastime. I'd let her play fingerpaint in the syrup ...and she would be more than welcome to leave her sticky little fingerprints wherever she saw fitEvery now & again, I would nibble on some food...taking, say one bite, out of a loaf of fresh-baked bread or a corner off of a Belgium candy bar...yum!yum! and then I'd tuck that nibbled on evidence under a bed pillow in the spare roomI would take apart Parker ink pens to see if the ink looked different & then I would scribble on pretty Victorian stationary sets or past due bills to see if they write differently.I'd take car keys off of the rings & hang them from ribbons.I'd re-organize alphabetical files according to my mood.I'd open glove compartments & trunks & I'd leave them open, maybe I'd put the tissue in the trunk and the spare on the floorboard. I'd flick on all the interior lights, put the wipers on high and turn the radio up full blast...so that when the key is turned some folks would rattle and roll.

Oh, I would be such a good little Pixie...All in good fun, no harm meant & no money spent.Much like the shoppers at Christmastime.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Undeniably, I have learned a lot so far this year...One of the more interesting and entertaining things I have been learning is 'flirting.'As a teen, I simply didn't do it, in my twenties I was too afraid and in my thirties I was too busy to be bothered.Now, I am in my forties. While I am still ever so busy and have 100 things going on at once, I am free from the fears. I am wiser.No matter how busy the moment may be life is too short to not smile or to share a raw, fleeting truth.I still have so much too learn, I know.But this year I have discovered that flirting is as simple as that... smiling and sharing raw, fleeting truths....I have also discovered that flirting is good for my mind and my spirit.It reminds me that I am here on earth for more than my labor and money.It reminds me that the simple things are the best and that I am blessed with many simple things.It inspires me to giggle, when otherwise I'd be silent and reminds me that I too can inspire others to giggle... a sweet little butterfly effect... one without obligation.As a child, my Mother always said that there was something positive to be said about everything and everyone...Like many Mothers, she would say 'if you cannot say something nice, don't say anything at all.'Still, for so long I have said nothing at all and now I realize she was encouraging me to flirt with the world...for crying kids can have beautiful eyes and angry old ladies can have admirable passion...and to not share these 'outside looking in' perspectives with them is to deny the butterfly effect...Well into my forties, I'm finally learning to flirt ...and I love it.

My Mother has told me that the good Lord needs angels of all ages, sizes, strengths, wisdoms and speeds and for that reason he sometimes puts some people through some pretty harsh stuff and sometimes he takes a young life, sometimes in a very tragic way.Maybe she is right.If so, these little girls surely have some powerfully strong wings with wisdoms way beyond their earthly years.

Nonetheless, I think a thousand angels could dance through my living room chanting songs that could seduce a lion into slumber and I doubt that they would help me understand how or why a mother could ever subject her child to such cruelties and dictate such an ill-fate to their little world.

Would these same women subject someone else's child to such atrocities? It doesn't seem so. Time after time, case after case, child after child we ever-increasingly so hear about mother's harming their own.

Being blessed as I have been with a Mother who has love, passion, conviction, strength, morality, patience and compassion among other things... I find myself sickened that these children were not blessed as I have been. I know that for every nightmare story about such stuff that makes the headlines, there are a thousand stories, equally as tragic, that don't.

I don't know what we can do, what I can do, to help stop these things from happening.I know we cannot undo what has been done.Oh, what should we do...

Friday, November 06, 2009

This is MY blog.It is one of the few things in my life that is all about me and whatever I want.It was given life by me and can be taken out by me.I do not have any sponsored advertisements on here because I don't want to.

So what is it about some folks who think they can bury their advertisements deep with my history's comments.I am not interested in providing free space for any of these folks to pimp their religious views, herbal remedies or political agendas....

So while I may not post with a rhythm and I typically do not delete comments...I will delete all posted by these lazy and crazy nudniks.

Peace and love to all...erectile dysfunction and acute pms to the spammers

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Halloween will be here before we know it...Below is the Ghost Story of "Who has My Golden Arm," as I recall it being told growing up....Mother's voice changing tone and pitch, as needed, surrounded by a circle of children sitting indian-style upon the wooden floors, huddled in a circle, hanging on every word...Enjoy! Again and Again...

Once upon a time there was a very,very rich man. He lived in a great old castle atop of the misty mountain.He was so rich that people would travel the winding road that led up to his house to ask for favors and donations of money.Children would venture to his door, trying to peddle their girl scout cookies, candy bars and magazine subscriptions for school. But even more often, parents would arrive with their daughters in tow...knowing this rich man was not married, they hoped that he would fall helplessly in love with their daughter.He turned the children away, despite all the wonderful goodies they had to offer. Likewise, he turned all of the fair women away...many of which were young and beautiful. He turned them all away because he believed that no-one was really interested in him...that they were only really interested in his money & his castle on the hill.One day, a woman arrived at his door. She was not looking for money or for love. She simply needed directions. He was suspicious, but after listening to her tales of getting lost, he found himself most captivated by her arm...her Golden Arm.He invited her in for tea....she must be very thirsty after her long & lost travels. He would give her the directions she needed, but curiosity got the best of him & he wanted to know more about this Golden Arm of hers.So over a glass of tea, she told him how she had been born the daughter of the richest man in the land (a man even richer than himself) and how she had been in a terrible horse riding accident as a little girl riding the horse her father had given her. Her father felt terrible.When she lost her arm, she cried & cried & cried. Who would ever fall in love with a one-armed girl? How would she ever tend to a home, a husband and a child with only one arm? Her tears of pain & loss only made her father's guilt grow.So when she was a young lady, her father gave her the gift of the Golden Arm. It was made of the finest gold of the world & made to look exactly like her other arm, but of solid gold. Her father told her that no-one, no thing, no accidents, no horses could ever take this arm from her... it was her Golden Arm.Entertained by her tale of the Golden Arm, he gave her the directions she needed and then invited her back for tea the next day.Day after day, they enjoyed afternoon tea together and eventually they married.He thought no man was as fortunate, as blessed, as lucky as he.Then suddenly one day, his wife died.He was saddened, but truth be known, he loved her Golden Arm much more than he had ever loved her.(voice drops, slightly above a whisper)So, not long after his beloved wife had been buried, he grabbed his shovel & began to dig.With each dig of the shovel into the dirt that covered his wife, he thought to himself... oh, that Golden Arm... I must have that Golden Arm... I am going to get that Golden Arm.And eventually, he found her & her Golden Arm.Covered in dirt, her face was so pale.In the moonlight her lips were so ashy...but that Golden Arm...it glistened, it shined, it was so bright & still so beautiful.He grabbed it out & quickly covered his dead wife with the fresh dirt he had piled up.All the while, thinking to himself...I have the Golden Arm! I got it! I finally got the Golden Arm!He ran with the Golden Arm through the cemetery, through the woods and up the foggy dark hillside, back to his castle. He took the Golden Arm & hid it deep in the secret safe. The safe that no-one else had ever known about, not even his beloved wife.After all his hard work digging & his wild uphill running, he found himself exhausted. He sat in his chair, the chair he always sat in for afternoon tea & quickly fell asleep.But he awoke to a sound(voice in a sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"(story teller looks maniacally into the eyes of the first child)The old rich man is startled by the ghostly vision of his dead wife before him.(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"(story teller peers deeply into the eyes of the second child)Her skin was so pale, he was terrified.(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"(story teller looks frantically into the eyes of the third child)Her ruby red lips were ashen & gray...could it really be her?(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"(story teller looks insanely into the eyes of the fourth child)Her hair was clumped with fresh dirt...could she still be alive?(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"(story teller looks nervously into the eyes of the fifth child)(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"(story teller looks painfully into the eyes of the sixth child)

(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?" (story teller looks desperately into the eyes of the seventh child)(Whisper falling to just a trace of a voice...singing in an increasingly desperate, eerie, high pitched tone, causing us children to reel in closer, gripping our knuckles tight & keeping our eyes wide open)"Who's Got My Golden Arm? Who's Got My Golden Arm?""Who's got My Golden Arm?"Once all of us kids were torn between anticipation and desperation, the story teller would abruptly scream 'YOU DO!' as she grabbed hold of one poor childs' arm.

All of us would scream, year after year.None of us ever wanted that Golden Arm & we still don't!Original Story written in 1883 by Aarne Thompson. This is my version, based upon my recall. Artwork by JustGiveMePeace artist, SAS.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Any caterpillar who tried to "know himself" would never become a butterfly. ~André Gide

"I'm a boot-ee-full butterfly" ~ Toy Story

I saw another wooly Slug last week-end and when I pointed him out to everyone, they all wanted to kill him. I scooped him out of harms way using a Magnolia leaf. Yes, they will sting the molasses out of you, but everything...even those things in life that are painful or not so pretty, has it's place

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Buddha"Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace."

Sometimes that word isn't a word at all, but a sweet, simple breath of air...a sigh of relief.

On a different note...as I recall from my childhood...if it someone else birthday and you too would like to make a wish when they blow out the candles... take a ring off your finger and drop it around one of the candles. If they blow all the candles out, you get your wish too...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

When I see a car with one headlight, a pop-eye, I put my fingers to my lips, kiss them and then touch the roof, making a wish. I count them and when I get out of the car my counting stops.

In fact, I wished this way onto Deans List and all through college. I wished my way into one decent job when I had been working three. I wished myself into a house when I was renter. And I'm wishing now...

Here's an old southern wish for the fall...

If you see a bale of hay...make a wish then say'Bale of Hay, Bale of HayTake My Wish & Blow it Away"

While I was out of town, I scheduled new little posts to pop up each day.It's the closest I have ever been to any kind of format here.I kinda liked it.Hmmm...maybe more of a format to come...While I wasn't able to respond to comments as I normally would, I did read them all upon my return...Orhan and Scott from Oregon, I agree with you...I believe dogs do know jealousy. They are very soulful beings :)Mel...I would never survive your weather honey. It would take 24hr access to a sun room which was well heated and insulated. I send you sunshine...Amelie...Your words are very sweet, still may the tears be broken with laughter ;)Sing, Dee & Jerzeygrl...ILY&IMYSVM

Monday, October 12, 2009

Sleeping, I distinctly heard the sound of a dog tinkling.What on earth?I popped up, 'Smokie!'Nestled on his bed, next to mine, he looked up at me...somewhat startled.I flipped in my bed and that's when it hit me.... hit me right on my feet, immediately giving all my toes a waterfall bath.

This morning, with flashlight and stew pot in hand, I walked the balance beam of rafters looking for the tiny leak that's caused big damages.

Not everything in life can be patched up.If only it had just been Smokie...

And as much as I would like to just walk away, right back to the seafoam I just left, I know the time is not right.

Saturday, October 03, 2009

You live in a world of illusionWhere everythings peaches and creamWe all face a scarlet conclusionBut we spend our time in a dream~Steve Miller

...and I think that is just dandy. The difference between dreams and fantasies, to me, is that dreams are meant for chasing. And if we all truly face a scarlet conclusion, then we might as well enjoy the colors along the way.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

"There is pleasure in the pathless woods,There is society, where none intrude,there is a rapture on the lonely shore...by the deep sea, and music in its roarI love man not the less, but Nature even more..."-Lord Byron

Sometimes, I like to be all alone down by the river, out in the woods or on the oceans edge...and then I realize I'm not really ever alone...

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

"We have learned to fly the air like birds,swim the seas like fish...but we have not yet learned the art of living together as brothers and sisters"-Martin Luther King Jr.

I don't really swim like a fish. I dog-paddle. But I am pretty damn good at it.Nor do I fly. The closest I have been to flying is Airtran, bridge jumping & sky-diving...but learning the art of living...that's what takes me places...

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I see the mailman who comes to my work 5 days a week & I rarely ever see the mailman who comes to my house.But when my work mailman went on vacation, I thought I recognized his replacement...'Hey! I think I know you.'He asked me what my address was and I told him.He knows his route well.He described my house and I laughed, 'Yup. That's mine!'He pointed out that he noticed the addition of one more dog & that he knew the house where he had come from.We chatted about the situation of that house a moment or two. It was as if they had been friends for years.Then he went on to say 'You know what you do? You always take packages and personal letters in, but you leave the bills and junk mail in the box for days!''Yup. Hahaha, I sure do...'A smirk and a shake of the head...'You'd be surprised at the things a mailman knows.'

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Yes, she is crying and no more than an hour old here. Born with a broken collar bone, she enters the world wiser...they say that which doesn't kill us, only makes us stronger and I can tell already this little bundle of love has one strong spirit.'She looks Asian.''She looks Puerto Rican''She looks like Buddha.''She looks like me'

She is all of these things, and some. We are as one... Love Grows.Welcome to the World, our latest little link in the circle of love.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

I stumbled, bumbled and mumbled my way through the door dragging with me a small rustic bench for in front of the wood-burning stove and a couple days worth of soggy mail.I plopped the mail on the entry table and plodded on into the kitchen where I dropped my 13" high bench and I let the dogs in.I sat on the bench and gave them good lovin' and in between wagging tails and the huffs and puffs of doggie breath, I saw the stack of dishes waiting in the sink, the mound of trash in the can, the wisps of dog hair mounding in the corners on the floor. Hugging SmokieBoy and patting Vilulah's side, with Bear nudged up between us all, the kitchen lights flickered out.I buried my facein my doggie-haven.Finally, I stood up and pulled the string for the kitchen lights. Nothing. So I pulled the string for the fan. Yup, one pull fast, another medium, another slow and yet another, off.Four bulbs don't burn out at once...this thing is messed up.So I scooped up the trash and one old quilt and I toted it all out with three dogs trailing behind me.I leftthe soggy mail, the dirty dishes, the mounting corners of dog hair and the bummed kitchen light...and I just floated...on rope spread by wood, under the falling star sky, canopied by the sounds of a mongolian windchime and into the pandora's box of open air dreams.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Manuella Stefani, 18 years old, from Rio De Janeiro, Brazil did this giraffe.It is one in a million and it's beautiful : )

Ayoung spirit has taken on a bet that she could gather One Million Giraffeswithin a limited amount of time. She has about a year and a half to go and she has almost 1/4 of her Giraffes.Not only do I think all kids should be supported on personal quests, objectives and goals... I think she has collected some awesome works. All of the different shapes and forms, all the different things with which people make their giraffes.... simply awesome.

When I heard about this kids mission from Mel , I never imagined that on Saturday night I would be sitting around the house with good company, grilling out good food, making drip candles & doodling giraffes...

Imagination really is the only limitation and dreams are meant for chasing...

Thursday, August 27, 2009

A 21-year-old local woman reported Monday to police that she had been the victim of an early morning armed robbery in her home. According to the incident report; The RightBehindMe Street woman said around 5 a.m. she awoke surrounded by three men, one of whom held a shotgun to her face demanding to know where her money was located, and another with a gun to her back. One of the men, she said, held her at gunpoint in her bedroom while the other two searched or ransacked her home...(The Daily Tribune)

Craziness from a couple-few weeks ago.As a bird flies, this was just a few houses away.I am convinced she knew the perps & that there is much more to this story, but I don't know and regardless, I stand by my conviction that this is the friendliest ghetto in town...There's no place like home...and home is what we make it...

Humming to the tune of Guns n Roses...'Welcome to the ghetto, we've gone fun and games...'

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

I have lived in this house longerthan I have ever lived anywhere...nine and a half years.106 years old now, it hasseen a lotof stuff come and go...including people.One day I, too, will go.Six months ago, back in February, something veryprofound and personalhappened which words could never really explain. In a moment or maybe it was in a hour, I don't know but... I realized that all that really matters in the end is LoVe...All-la-la-la-levels of it...a love of food and a love of life, a love of laughter and a love of learning, a love of peace and a love of passion, a love of the water and the wind, a love of strangers and a love of ourselves, a love of a lifetime and a lifetime of love...And all this stuffthat for nearly 10 years now has been dog-piling in my house really doesn't matter.If it's not useful or enjoyable, it's gotta go and even if it is useful and enjoyable...it still can go. It's just too much stuff.(Do any of you need anything?)So ... rummaging through some old 'keepsakes' I found yet another old journal with all but two of the pages blank.The first page dates the journal back by about 15 years.The second page has a poem I wrote.I'll post the poem & chunk the book,knowing the momentthat I hit 'publish' the usefulness of it has been completed.Maybe someone out there will enjoy or find it useful...Maybe someone will just love it...Maybe not, but the timehas come

Saturday, August 15, 2009

individually & collectively...colorful and bright, dull and darkand sometimes void of all color.Some folks are even filled with light.Most of us have tinselspinning and ever-changingwith a core which is constant in that it is there...if for nothing else, but to hold together our strings, strands or ribbons of who we really are and who we seem to be together.

Sometimes the colors dim, fadesometimes seeing things through hazy shadesnot seeing things so vividlySometimes one color spills over onto another...andanotherandanother.sometimes that color is an absence of color

and sometimes those strings, strands and ribbons are really cardboard wandsYup, sometimes we are just a sucker

But suckers are good...andcolorfulwhy else would they give them out at the bank?

'Make Peace with the Past so that it doesn't screw up the Present...which just a moment ago, was the Future.'

Thursday, August 13, 2009

I Love Coffee & Tea...And I drink both in the morning...Sometimes, I drink both throughout the day Hell, sometimes I drink them at night...But IF I had to choose one over the other...I would choose teaAnd IF I had to give them both upI would need help...serious help.

Saturday, August 08, 2009

When I say that I'd like to something someday...sometimes, I secretly wish someone would whisk me away & we could do it right then and there.

Starlight, starbright...shooting star, take me away tonight...

Let's not save all of our wishes for 'someday' and those moments when we get to catch a glimpse of a shooting star...Perseids will be here someday soon...In fact,August 12, but shooting stars happen every night

Monday, August 03, 2009

We never know what little gifts the day may hold for us. I am not sure if this is the hairy slug thing, which I had posted about earlier, that has come to age or what...but it was perched upon my shop entry.

Pink, beige, brown, yellow and an airbrushing of white around the exterior edges, this baby was huge and had a main body which appeared to be covered in a soft fur.

Its head had two appendages which looked like feathers and it's back had two eyes which were so detailed it seemed as if they were looking back at me.

When its wings were open, its span was as big as my hand and it looked like it felt like suede.

I have no idea what it is exactly, but I know its truly beautiful.

Ever notice how some of the most beautiful people you've ever met become downright ugly over time, and the plain ones start to seem quite lovely after awhile?

I tried to ID it at the Bug Guide , but discovered that there are over 11, ooo species of butterflies and moths in North America only.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Funny how I don't remember the sky shining purple through these leaves that stormy day.Sometimes, even in the simplest of moments, there is just too much for us to take it all in...to soak it up, to be completely aware, to see everything and to recall it all...If you had asked me if the sky glowed purple, I would have said 'nope...it's blue.'Perceptions & perspectives.

But looking at it now, I see it clearly... a purple haze.

I have heard a gazillion times that it takes two years to get past a divorce.Personally, I don't think some people ever get past it.The notion of failure sits like a giant moldy boulder blocking their path as opposed to becoming a great jumping rock from which to bring dreams to fruition..

Today, I have many folks I love contending with the issue...I wish them stepping stones, jumping rocks & the peaceful beauty of changing skies...

Jimi Hendrix sang a song called Purple Haze & it is commonly believed that he wrote the song about LSD, but in fact the flip is true. The LSD was named after the song. The song was actually written in response to a dream he had about walking under water in the ocean and how his blind faith brought him to the surface, thus saving his life. It was recorded the same year I was born and is on the 'Are You Experienced' album.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Wouldn't it be nice if we could really eat Tabasco and have mosquitos explode upon biting us?Anything to limit them to just one bite would be nice...

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it.Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure.Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spiritsin the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.- Helen Keller

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

I was a little kid and still too young for public schools.But not too young for love and war.We were in war...us against them.Earth girls versus material girls.Childhood charges...I ran, barefoot padding heavy through the grass and slapping the sidewalk hard.At the end of the day, I had scraped up elbows, knees and one stubbed toe.'What happened to you?''I don't know Momma''What do you mean you don't know? Of course you know! Look at you! You are a bloody mess''Well, I remember running and falling... I just don't remember getting hurt.'

So I have learned not to declare war so readily...but I still sometimes fly ninety miles to nothing.I still fall and just get up and go.And I still find injuries and wonder where I got them...

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Everyone has their own experiences in life...some are familiar to our own, some are not. This is about mine... good and bad, funny & sad, twisted and true and some things in between. Peace & Love People

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This is my personal blog. It is not sponsored by any agency or advertisers. The content comes from the opinion and perspective of .....me. It is not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual... anyone or thing. I intend no harm.If you don't like something I say, please feel free to comment. I'm pretty liberal & welcome insightful views. I am not liable, accountable or responsible for the comments left by others.Should I state something like 'brushing your teeth with baking soda helps to keep them white,' please do not try to sue me for pain and suffering if you scrub your gums raw.Before acting on anything I might say, please do your own investigative work...as I do not know everything, I intend to do no harm and will not be held accountable or liable for your choices.If you feel I have published something in err, please advise. Provided with evidence of such errs, I will gladly retract & announce such errs.I reserve the right to remove comments, revise posts & remove posts without notice.This is a personal blog about my personal perspective of anything and everything in my little world. It is not a paid-to blog, nor does it contain advertisers.My limits of liability are equal to the monies that I have saved over the past two years...about five dollars and thirty-five cents.Peace~Love People